Final Draft
by Somizura
Summary: It is two years after the fall of Voldemort. Life is good, and yet, in the background, it isn't. Time travel occurs, and the past has to be meddled in hopes for what could be a better future.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N: And here's yet... another story. I've been daydreaming in class about it, and this has seriously distracted me. I imagined and planned out tons of the scenes, but had no idea how to begin it... how strange. The pairings? I have no idea. This is just... a prologue of sorts. I just wanted to get this chapter over with. It's in the next chapter that there's time travel. Please read and review. Enjoy!

EDIT: This is basically chapters 1 and 2, edited, from previously.

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Harry yawned tiredly as he stared out of the window. He was visiting the Burrow for the time being. He watched as the entire Weasley family, with the exception of Fred, prepared for the feast that they were to have later that night down in the garden. Harry's spirit dropped.

It was amazing to think that it was just two short years before that he had faced up against Lord Voldemort again for the last time, and won. It was exhilarating, and the whole Wizarding world was celebrating the Dark Lord's downfall. There was the relief that the danger that was looming over them all had passed, gone forever. That wouldn't mean that there would no longer be any more dark lords, but at the moment, it was a peaceful time.

Of course, the joyous feelings didn't entirely cover up the feelings of regret, or mourning. There were many that died, children and adults alike. Many members of the Order, and even Hogwarts students died in that final battle. And all those deaths were only from that one battle. There were many, _many_ more that died over the years, including his own parents.

Hermione's parents were visiting Australia again. After Hermione had originally sent them there to stay out of harm's way, the dentists decided they liked the place and wanted to stay there for the summer vacation as well, for their anniversary. Hermione didn't go and would have had no place to stay until Mrs. Weasley kindly offered her home.

Harry, now that he was over age, refused to stay with the Dursley's, who had returned to Privet Drive, and had stayed for a few months at the Burrows. After much thought, he had first rented out a small apartment for himself near Godric's Hollow. He wasn't ready to actually move into the place where his parents were murdered, or where he was attacked by Nagini, but Harry would visit the house every now and then. The house itself was kept just as it was before James and Lily Potter were killed.

Once he gained the courage to enter the house, he did so. He passed through the layers of defenses that he hadn't realized were there the first time around. Of course, those defenses were not supposed to be noticed, but after the battle with Voldemort, Harry's magical powers had increased drastically. It was as though they were originally suppressed, but once let go… it felt as though a dam had been released and he overflowed with power. With his heightened magical senses, he noticed all of the defenses that surrounded and clung to the house.

Letting himself in, Harry noticed the absence of dust as well. The first time around, he didn't register how clean it was because he was occupied with other business. Now, in the daytime, he clearly saw that there weren't any layers of dust that should have accumulated over the past eighteen and a half years. When he thought about it, he realized that even if there was a spell that kept the dust away, it would have worn off after the caster had died. And all possible casters _had _died, as much as he wished they hadn't: his parents, the rest of the Marauders, Dumbledore…

Coming to the conclusion that another wizard or witch was in the house, Harry whipped out his wand from his front pocket and held it at his side, waiting and listening carefully. The house was silent. He could hear the sounds of everyday life outside of it, but inside, all he could hear was his own breath and the beatings of his nervous heart. All of a sudden, there was a resounding crack behind him and he spun, directing his wand at the person in front of him… and saw nobody.

"Master has finally returned to his house." A soft voice called out. Looking down, Harry saw large ears. A house elf. Bowing. His mind could barely understand the scene in front of him. After a few moments, his brain was berating itself. Of course there would be a house elf. Like Ron had said, house elves usually came with large houses and rich purebloods. His father was certainly a rich pureblood, and so it was highly probable that the one in front of him was James's… and was now his apparently.

"Floppy has been waiting for Master to comes." She looked up at him, eyes wide. '_Her ears are rather floppy,'_ he thought amused, before he was suddenly struck with the thought of Dobby. Brave and valiant Dobby. Her eyes however, were a striking green, much like his own.

"Hello, Floppy." He addressed her, squatting down. "I'm Harry."

She nodded happily. "Young Master Harry." She squeaked, and bowed low again.

He caught her. "You don't have to bow to me, you know… Anyway, have you been living here this entire time?" At her nod, he whispered, almost to himself. "You must have been lonely."

"F-Floppy wasn't lonely!" She exclaimed once she saw his downcast face. "Floppy had lots to do! So don't feel sad for Floppy, Master Harry!" After her outburst, her face reddened. "Floppy apologizes for speaking out of turn… Floppy -"

She was cut off when Harry started laughing. He fell back and just laughed. "It's okay, Floppy. Now, can you show me around?"

After that meeting, Harry promptly moved into Godric's Hollow.

"HARRY!" He was pulled out of his memories as Ron yelled from the garden. "Get your arse down here! Dinner's ready!" Harry grinned and ran downstairs.

"You really didn't need to yell, Ron," he laughed and jogged to his best friends. Hermione and Ron, after their passionate declarations of love for one another a little less than two years before, actually broke up half a year after Voldemort's downfall. Harry didn't really know why, but ironically, even though they broke up, the three of them became even closer friends.

Mrs. Weasley really had outdone herself. The table, as large as it was, barely held all the food Mrs. Weasley had cooked for them. Bill and Fleur had a child. It was only one, but it was his birthday that everyone was celebrating.

The entire evening was filled with food, laughter, as well as a few jokes that George had played on the entire family, which caused Mrs. Weasley to be cross with him for some time.

Everyone felt that it was different without Fred as well, but nobody voiced it. George was after all, trying his hardest without Fred, his twin, his other half, his balance. And in that thought, which loomed in the back of their minds, they remembered their grief in the midst of the joy and happiness.

"G'morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry ruffled his hair as he walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was standing at the stove, wand in hand as she prepared the meal. It was quite a sight to behold actually, and Harry would have stopped and stare in awe and appreciation at the mother of… six now that Fred was dead, if not for the fact that he was extremely exhausted.

The night before, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all stayed up, talking about the past and laughing at each other. They were talking about the new generation: Harry's godson and Ron's nephew. It was amazing to think that this was going to be the first generation that wouldn't have to live in fear. Their greatest fears until the age of 18 would be about grades, dating, OWLs, and NEWTs. They wouldn't have to worry about their lives, conspiracies, or dark lords. And the three were grateful for that.

"Morning, Mum." Ron entered, barefoot and yawning widely. He plopped into an open seat, rubbing his eye. "What's for breakfast?"

"Merlin, your breath stinks, Ron!" Charlie waved his hand in front of him, as though he were fanning the stench away.

"Aw, shut up." Ron glared, or attempted to as he was still rubbing his eye.

Mrs. Weasley turned around, wand in one hand and a spatula in the other. "No breakfast until you clean yourself up, Ronald!" She pointed with her spatula to the door that led back upstairs and stared at him until he started getting up.

"B-But what about Harry, Mum?!" Ron cried out as he walked to the door.

"I dunno what you're talking about, Ron. I already brushed my teeth." Harry smiled innocently at the redhead.

"_WHEN?!_"

"When you were still rolling out of bed and fought with your blanket that you swore was trying to suffocate you."

Ron pointedly ignored the sniggers that were coming out of his older brothers as he stomped back upstairs, stopping his racket only when his mother yelled at him.

Breakfast was a peaceful event, or as peaceful as it could get in the Burrow. Afterwards, Mrs. Weasley took Ginny to buy her school supplies for her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Bill, Charlie, and George tagged along for the Floo ride. The three were going to go back to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The store was doing spectacular, even with the absence of the other twin.

Mr. Weasley and Percy Floo-ed to the Ministry of Magic after them. A few minutes after, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in front of the fireplace.

"See you guys there." Harry grinned as he took a pinch of Floo powder, threw it into the fire, and stepped in. "Potters' Mansion!" he cried, gave a quick wave at the other two, before pulling his hand down and keep them at his side.

"Ouf." Harry groaned and flew out of the fireplace. Even after using the Floo for so long, he still hadn't gotten used to the landing. He quickly moved out of the way as an ornament about his fireplace glowed.

"Fireplace spit you out again, Harry?" Ron grinned as he stepped out of the fire as calmly as though he were walking though a doorway.

"Shut up, Ron." Harry rolled his eyes, before stepping out of the way. "Come on, Hermione's coming through now."

"_Again_, Harry?" Hermione said, smiling lightly as she raised an eyebrow and glanced at the soot that littered the floor in front of the fireplace.

"It just doesn't like me, okay?" Harry pouted as he finished dusting himself off.

A pop could be heard as the house-elf appeared near the three. "Welcome home, Master Harry." Floppy squeaked out, giving a short bow. "Hello, Mr. Ron. Hello, Miss Hermione."

Things had changed since two years ago. There were more decorations in the house, and it had a warmer feel to it. The garden in the back had a marble statue of a family of deer that were all lying on the ground, consisting of a stag, a doe, and a fawn. The three would form a triangle, with the stag and the doe facing the fawn, which faced the doe. Every now and then, Harry would go outside with a book or something and sit in the center, leaning against either the stag or the doe.

Inside the mansion, Ron and Hermione had their own rooms as well. Despite it being a peaceful time, paranoia still hadn't left Harry. The house had many enchantments surrounding it. There were objects on top of the fireplace, spelled to alert occupants of different occurrences, ranging from when someone is Floo-ing to the house, to if it was going to rain.

"Hello, Floppy." The three said in unison, and grinned at each other. It had become a habit to say that in unison whenever they'd arrive at the house together.

"Master Harry. This letter arrives for Master Harry when Master Harry went to Mr. Ron's house." Floppy held out a letter in both hands to Harry, who took it.

Harry looked at the front. The envelope seemed normal enough, and would have been, if there was anything on the front other than "Mr. Harry Potter" scrawled in the center.

He looked at the other two, who shrugged. He stared at the envelope, and opened it anxiously. The envelope was now open, and nothing had happened. Maybe he was a little too paranoid, but learning under Moody during his fourth year and some time before his death had caused him to be constantly on guard.

Harry was about to take out the letter itself, when Hermione gave a loud gasp. He looked up quickly, and was about to ask what had happened, when he saw for himself what was going on. The walls of Potter Manor were fading out. Within a few moments, he could feel the wind blowing through his hair and sounds of people talking with each other reached his ears. The slightly sooty tiled floors of the house were replaced with a cobbled street. Diagon Alley.

The three stared, awe-struck around them. No one seemed to have noticed that a witch and two wizards seemed to have materialized out of nowhere into their midst.

"What… what just happened, Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice an octave higher.

"I have no idea…" He murmured, still turning around in circles.

In a few minutes, people started going around them. They were like rocks in a stream, and the water had to go around them. Of course, in this circumstance, the water had an opinion, had no patience whatsoever, and could speak. "Children these days. They shouldn't stand in the middle of a pathway." A witch muttered.

Her comment simply bounced off of them as they looked around them in shock.

"WOW! A NIMBUS 1000! It's the fastest model yet!" A voice cried out. "Dad! Can I get one? Mum? Dad? Can I, can I?" The heads of all three snapped towards the origin of the voice. There was a little boy, begging his parents as he pointed excitedly to the broom on display.

"Nimbus… 1000?" Harry asked to no one in particular.

"Fastest model yet?" Ron repeated.

The two gaped, while Hermione, noticing that people were starting to be cross with them, grabbed their hands and dragged them to the exit that led into the Leaky Cauldron. "A room, please." She asked the bartender, Tom. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few coins.

"Only _one_ room, Miss?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione breathed in impatiently. "Two rooms then." She took out more coins, grabbed the keys that he held out for her, and herded her friends upstairs. Upon reaching the first room, she pushed them in and locked the door. "_Muffliato_." She cast, after whipping out her wand.

"Now, snap out of it, you two! We've got more urgent things on our hands than brooms." She said, falling into a nearby seat. "Where's the letter, Harry?" She asked.

"The… letter?" He repeated numbly.

A soft pop sounded, and Floppy appeared before them. "Floppy picked up the letter, Master Harry." She bowed, and handed the letter back to him.

Hermione didn't comment on the fact that he actually dropped such an important document that could explain their whole situation. Harry took out the letter, and started reading.

"_Dear Harry,_

_I am afraid that once you have begun to read this letter, the spell in this letter would have done its job and you will have arrived in Diagon Alley. I don't know where to begin, but I suppose that it would be better to say it right out. Voldemort is back._

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_A/N: Mwahaha! Cliffhanger! Any guesses on who wrote the letter? Anyway, so, yup, that's the first chapter. How was it? Please review. I have recently realized that reviews are a good motivation for updates. *laugh* I do plan on updating in the near future though. I really need to get this off my mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. There.

Here's chapter three!

EDIT: Like I said in the previous chapter, this is chapters 3 and 4 from previously.

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"WHAT?!" Ron boomed as he leaped to his feet. Hermione stared in shock.

Harry opened his mouth and whispered, "_What?_" Ron took two strides over to the Boy-Who-Lived and snatched the letter from his hands.

His eyes scanned the letter. "Harry, there's nothing on this letter."

Harry's eyes snapped open. "Are you joking? It says so right there, as clear as day! At the end of the first paragraph!"

"Harry, there's nothing on this letter." Ron repeated, breathing heavily from his previous shock.

"Ron, there must be a spell charmed onto the paper that only lets the receiver read its contents." Hermione stated, her voice shaky.

"How could this have happened?" Ron asked, his eyes darting from Harry, to the letter, to Hermione, to the letter, and then back to Harry, begging Harry, or Hermione, or _anyone_ to jump out of hiding and laugh at him saying, "April Fools!" or anything along those lines. But no one did. "This letter's lying!!" He spat out.

Hermione breathed in heavily, calming herself before she spoke. "Ron. Give the letter back to Harry. We don't know if this is true or false, and we would never know, if Harry doesn't continue reading it."

Ron bit his lip, and then handed the parchment back to Harry. His hands were shaking slightly. "Sorry, mate," he muttered before returning to his seat.

Harry nodded at the apology. "I'm going to start from the beginning, if you guys don't mind?" The other two only nodded, waiting anxiously.

"_Dear Harry,_

_I am afraid that once you have begun to read this letter, the spell in this letter would have done its job and you will have arrived in Diagon Alley. I don't know where to begin, but I suppose that it would be better to say it right out. Voldemort is back._

_Well, I can't really say that. Perhaps I should have said 'Voldemort will be back' since he hasn't come back yet… in your time period anyway._

_There is not much time to explain this to you. Voldemort had found a way to achieve what possibly could be true immortality shortly after he came back. We're still not too sure what it is, but it deals with the idea that if he places quite a bit of magic something, it would anchor him to the world of the living. The basic gist is the same as that of the horcruxes._

_The main difference is that the magic is implanted into a living being… a Pure Blood child in this case. The magic is then allowed to grow and develop. When the magic overpowers the magic that originally belonged to the child, after a certain time, Voldemort's magic corrupts the magic of the child. The mind is also connected to the magic, and therefore, the child's mind is corrupted, and Voldemort can take over the child's body. It is _impossible_ to overpower another person's magic when inside that person's body, but Voldemort has done the impossible._

_We weren't aware of any of this… until that child, now a man, appeared before us as the Dark Lord. We've spent… _years_ attempting to do him in once again, and all our efforts have yet to show any success._

_Meanwhile, the Death Eaters have gathered under him, their faith apparently stronger than ever. Voldemort appeared to them as truly immortal. Twice, he appeared to be defeated, _killed_ by the Light wizards, and twice he regained his former glory. Many have sided with him, and Muggles are dying day by day. His power has spread beyond Britain. In one encounter with him, he openly stated that he was immortal._

_Once he became the Dark Lord again, he went and planted his magic into other children. It would lie dormant, and only his death would trigger any one of them. We don't know who has been planted, nor do we have any way to scan them. That's why, Harry, I have to ask you to forgive me._

_I have sent you to the past. When? I, myself, am not sure. It was difficult even to send you into the past. All I could have done was to set the parameters to when Voldemort's power was at its peak._

_My friend is urging me to write faster. We have to leave soon, so I shall try to be brief._

_Change time. Defeat Voldemort. Only you could do this. I know that you have done a lot; more than should have been asked of you. But please, you must understand. _No one else can do this_. I know that you may be asking why only you. The answer is rather biased, one-sided, stupid, and personal, but that's because I _know_ that you would be able to get the job done. Other people would be side-tracked, distracted, and would not be able to face Voldemort. They would try to run and hide in fear, or they would deny everything. You wouldn't however._

_This spell used to send you back… well, I don't really know all of the details. I wasn't the one who created it. The brightest witch of our time created it. She gave up explaining it to me after I asked for an explanation for the tenth time. It deals with a lot of research on time-turners and a lot of magic (her, my friend's, and mine). I am afraid to say that Fawkes, who had returned to us during this crisis, gave up his life forever for this spell._

_My friend has made sure that at your arrival, all the money in the Potter and Black vaults would be there as well, under the name of "Times". The key is enclosed in this letter as well. How she managed to do this and not be able to send you to an exact date is beyond me, but… oh well._

_Once you arrive to whenever this spell has sent you, there will be no future. Everything is wiped clean and ready for you to write. Everyone you knew no longer exists and you cannot go back. Or that's what we speculate. My friends are rather sure of this though._

_So please forgive me. Forgive me for controlling your life. I know that you don't like being other people's puppets. The Dursley's, Dumbledore (though he did it for the good of everyone, bless him), and now me. It has to be you though. We are no longer in our youths, and our magic aren't as strong as they were once. Good luck, and please, change is so that this madness doesn't happen again._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Harry James Potter, year 2026"_

Silence covered everyone. Harry stared at the letter, while the other two were fixed on him. Floppy was sitting on the bed next to Hermione, as she was invited before Harry started reading.

"How… how is this possible?" Ron croaked out, his throat dry. His friends didn't answer. "This must be a practical joke? It must have been sent by George! Or, or…" His voice trailed off. "This _must_ be a joke." He begged, his hand holding tightly onto his shirt.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Is it a joke, like Ron said? Or is it real? Only you can tell, since you're the only one who could read the letter." Her face was stiff.

Harry remained silent, his hands shaking. He uncurled one hand slowly, and then slapped himself on the cheek. The impact resounded, but he ignored that it was accompanied by gasps from his friends. He turned back to the paper in his hand, his cheek bright red. His hands had stopped shaking, and his mind started working as he silently re-read the letter, which seemed to be sent from himself. "It's real." His voice wasn't shaky or shrill. It was as though he was commenting on something simple, like the weather, rather than something that turned their entire lives upside-down.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!" Ron exclaimed, but remaining in his seat. He didn't exactly trust that his legs would be strong enough to hold him at the moment. "How do you know that it's real, Harry? It's so - "

"It has my magic on it." Harry cut in.

They stared at him. "What?"

"This letter, it has my magic all over it. This must be why only I could read it. It was _written_ in my magic." Harry looked at them.

"Floppy?" Hermione turned to the House Elf next to her. "How did you get this letter?"

"Floppy gets this letter from Floppy, Miss Hermione. Floppy was cleaning the house, when this House Elf who looked like Floppy appeared, handed Floppy the letter, and then apparated." Floppy answered softly.

Hermione looked seemed to be in contemplation. "The Floppy from the future must have been the one to send the letter. The spell must have been cast on her as well, sending her to when we were. Then she must have apparated to somewhere else… to spend the last few days until we came back." She looked at Harry, who nodded.

"This is madness." Ron moaned. "If, and I mean if, this letter is right, then this morning was the last time I see my family again." He whispered.

Harry and Hermione looked over at him, the truth of his words hitting them hard. If the letter was telling the truth, then they wouldn't see anyone they knew again. Harry wouldn't walk into the kitchen and see Mrs. Weasley cook as she always did. They wouldn't be laughing at George's and Ginny's jokes anymore, or poking fun at Percy. Mr. Weasley wouldn't be constantly questioning Mr. and Mrs. Granger about Muggles. Charlie wouldn't be telling them about dragons. Hagrid wouldn't be seen hanging onto Charlie's every word as he told them about how Norbert was doing. They wouldn't see Bill and Fleur and their new baby. It was all gone.

The mood fell. They were surprised by the letter and were shocked out of their minds by what it said, but they hadn't realized what it all really meant. A quiet sniffle brought them out of their stupor. Hermione was at Ron's side immediately, kneeling down with her arms around him. She ignored that her shirt was getting damp from his tears.

Harry stood near them, awkwardly. "Well," he began, his voice cracking slightly. "At least you wouldn't have to see your sister getting together with anyone, Ron."

Ron looked up. His eyes were red and his cheeks wet. After a few moments, he grinned slightly. He knew that Harry was trying to get him to smile. "Yeah, that must be the only upside to this whole thing right now." He pulled away from Hermione, smiling appreciatively at her as he wiped his face. "Though you know, if that was your attempt at a joke, you failed miserably." He grinned. It was shaky, but it was a smile none the less.

"Now come on you two. We have to get ourselves together. We can't go after Voldemort right now. We have to do that over time. I say, we should first fill our stomachs, and then decide where we should go from here." He nodded towards the clock on the wall, which told them it was a little past two.

Ron agreed with Harry, who walked over to the envelope and took out the key that they seemed to have missed. "Floppy, stay here for now. We'll be back soon." He told the House Elf, who nodded. "It would be strange if we were walking around with a House Elf." He explained to Hermione, who appeared to want to say something.

"I suppose so." She said, standing up. She was still holding on to SPEW despite there being so little members.

The three exited the room, making sure to lock up after them. Saying a quick good-bye to Tom, they walked out back. Harry took out his wand and tapped the special bricks, holding his breath as the pathway started to open. None of the three were alright with the twist of events, and they would always miss those they left behind, but they needed to look forwards. They could only hope that they could hold in their tears and grief in public.

It was a rather strange sensation that Harry experienced as he and his friends walked down the cobbled path that they had walked so many times before, and yet have never really walked before.

"Wow Harry. It's amazing that we can actually walk around freely without a glamour on you." Ron joked. Harry responded by sticking out his tongue.

That was true though. For once in two years, he wasn't mobbed by reporters for the _Daily Prophet_ where he stood. Kids didn't stand around gawking at him as though he were the newest broom on the market. There weren't any whispers that followed him like a shadow as people crowded near him, wanting to catch a glimpse of the _famous Harry Potter_, savior of the Wizarding world.

Harry grinned, jamming his hands into his jean pockets. It was relieving to say in the least, that he could be a normal… adult. He wasn't a teenager anymore.

The two exchanged a few jokes, laughing. "I don't know though." Hermione said.

Ron stopped in mid laugh. "Aw, come _on_, 'Mione! Do you have to be such a damper on everything? Can't you just be happy like the rest of us? I mean, seriously. We're not being trampled by over-enthusiastic fans that are trying to get to the Boy-Who-Lived." Harry smiled sheepishly.

Hermione reddened slightly. "I know what you guys mean, Ronald." She began.

"She called me 'Ronald'. That means she's either embarrassed or angry. What did I do _now_?!" Ron hissed to Harry, who shrugged good-naturedly.

"You didn't do anything Ron. It's just that… It's just… Did you guys look around us?" Hermione calmed down, although she was still pink.

Ron started craning his neck as he attempted to find something that he didn't see before. "OW! Why'd you hit me for 'Mione?" He rubbed the area of impact, tousling his red hair.

"Don't do that. It just makes your hair messier." She lightly slapped his hand away from his head, ignoring his "yes, mum" comment. "And don't be so obvious. I just wanted to point out the atmosphere. Doesn't it seem a bit…"

"Constrained?" Harry cut in. She nodded. "It must be because Voldemort's still alive and doing well." he said, fingering his hair. Over the two years, he decided to grow out his hair a bit, just to control it. Now, it was around his shoulder blades and was usually kept tied.

A woman near them squeaked and then grabbed her daughter by the shoulder. She led her away, throwing fearful backward glances at the wizard who actually uttered the Dark Lord's name.

The three watched her as she silenced the struggling girl with a pointed look and quickly entered a store, but not before turning back one last time. "Well… that's an odd one, I'm telling you." Ron muttered, blinking in confusion. "Ignore her, Harry." He nudged his best mate, who looked rather embarrassed, though he made a point to lower his voice.

"So that's what I'm trying to say. I don't know if this is really worth it… Harry doesn't get bombarded with people, but those same people who bombarded him are now living in fear again." And Hermione was right… like always. All around them, smiles were strained and laughs were kept to a minimum. A wand was always in sight and children were kept extremely close to their guardians.

Ron frowned as they resumed walking. "It wasn't like this when Voldemort came back."

Groaning, Hermione explained, "It's like this Ron. People in our time didn't really believe that he came back. And besides, they had hope that the Boy-Who-Lived here," she gestured to Harry. "Would defeat him. In their minds, it wasn't only a hope, but they _knew_ that he would, and clung desperately to that thought. People here don't have that kind of hope. All they can do is live and hope not to be killed by Death Eaters, or even worse, Voldemort."

Ron nodded his understanding. "Come on guys, we'll save this talk for later. Let's get some ice cream first, decide what we should do now, and all that good stuff." Harry interrupted, steering his friends towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. They each ordered sundaes and moved to sit at an empty corner table. Harry would have preferred to sit outside, but then they would have stood out, something that they didn't want to do.

The few people who were in the parlour all remained inside, just in case of a Death Eater attack apparently. He thanked Fortescue, who had given them their orders personally. He looked sadly at the man after he returned to the counter. Harry remembered that during his third year, Fortescue had helped him with his History of Magic essay _and_ gave him a free sundae every half hour. The kind man was murdered during his sixth year.

That thought depressed Harry quite a bit, so he ended up playing around with his ice cream. Ron on the other hand shoveled into his own sundae and stuffed the spoon into his mouth. Hermione slapped her forehead. Harry laughed at the redhead. "What?" Ron asked, his mouth still full of ice cream.

"Ew Ron!" Hermione playfully scooted away from him. "You have ice cream all over your face, you know?" And Harry was struck with the memory of their first meeting with Hermione. Ron grabbed a few napkins that were situated in the center of the glass table and wiped his mouth. "You missed a spot." She grabbed another napkin and wiped his right cheek. They both froze, and after a few moments, she handed the napkin to him muttering, "Sorry."

Harry rolled his eyes. His ice cream had melted a bit, so he ate a spoonful, not wanting to waste money. Even now, at the age of twenty, his friends were still as obvious as ever. He really had no idea why Hermione and Ron had broken up a year ago, but one morning, they just announced that they had thought about it, and that they were just caught up in the moment.

An awkward silence fell over the three. Harry cleared his throat. Two heads jerked towards him. "Okay, guys, let's get to business."

"Over _ice cream_?" Ron was the first one to snap out of his stupor. "What, no firewhiskey?"

"Yes, over ice cream. What's wrong with ice cream?" To prove his point, he ate another bite.

Ron grinned and ate a fruit that was floating in some of the ice cream that melted. "Nothing. Go on."

"Right. First things first. Where're we gonna live?" Harry took a straw, stuck it into his liquid ice cream and sipped. Hermione dug out a spare piece of parchment and a quill from her bag, ready to take note of everything that they decided to do.

In the end, the three of them left the ice cream parlour and leisurely strolled down the path, a clear contrast to everyone else, to a Wizarding real estate agency located near the other end of Diagon Alley.

"How can we help you?" A motherly woman asked when they entered through the glass doors.

"Yes, um…" Harry began, before throwing a nervous glance at Hermione.

"We'd like to look at some of the houses that you're selling, please." Hermione took control. Harry breathed out in relief as he fell back to join Ron, who was looking at the pictures of houses on the wall. He could take on dragons, dementors, and Dark Lords, but these things were out of his jurisdiction.

The witch's face brightened at the prospect of a sale and promptly gestured the three to take a seat across from her. "Of course. I'm Emily Fawcett. Now, do you have any particular areas in mind, Miss…?"

"I'm Hermione Granger. This is Ron Weasley," she gestured to the redhead on her right. "And this is Harry Potter." She pointed to the boy on her left. We were thinking of a place near Tinworth?"

"Ah, Tinworth. It has a magical community, true, though it doesn't have many notable magical families. Perhaps I could recommend Godric's Hollow, current home to the Potters, or Ottery St. Catchpole, where the Weasley's live?" She smiled to the two males.

Harry gave a polite smile. "Thank you for your thoughts, but I'm afraid that we're not actually related to the Potters and Weasleys."

"But your last names…"

"Well, I shouldn't really say that. We're all orphans, so I can't really say whether or not we're actually related." Harry gave a sad smile. Fawcett opened her mouth, shocked. Her eyes were full of sympathy, something that Harry didn't like. "Its okay, Ms. Fawcett." He cut in. "We're used to it. Now, can you tell us about the availabilities in Tinworth?"

"Oh, right. Yes, give me a moment please." She pulled out an elegant, but thick book. She waved her wand and the book opened with a loud thump. The pages rapidly turned before stopping at a seemingly random page. "In Tinworth, there are a few houses open. Are there any specifications?"

"At least four rooms and two bathrooms."

A few more pages later, an image floated in the air between them. "This is a five room house with three bathrooms. It's located just outside of Tinworth. Would you like to apparate there?"

"Ah, that's okay. If anything, we can just fix it up with magic, no?" Ron gave a roguish grin, before getting hit in the head by Hermione. "'Mione! If you keep doing that, I'll lose brain cells!"

"You have brain cells?"

"Whose side are you on, Harry?" He moaned before falling silent.

A small giggle attracted their attention. "Oh, I'm sorry, dears. You just remind me of my children."

Hermione laughed along with her. "How much is the down payment?"

"The down payment is five thousand galleons, Miss Granger."

"Okay. I'll make a short stop to Gringotts." Harry made to get up.

"Mr. Potter. You don't have to go to Gringotts." He looked at Fawcett, who pulled out a sheet of paper and pushed it towards Harry. "You just write the amount you would like to pay here, and what the use is." She pointed at the top. "You sign here, and then place your key in this box there. That box will take an imprint of your key, which serves as a kind of identification. This paper is a one-time use, and promptly burns up upon use."

She noticed that Harry was still rather hesitant. "Don't worry. I won't use this for any other purpose."

"No, it's not that… I was… worried about the signature. You see, we all use the same account."

Fawcett smiled gently. "The goblins check the magic. There's always a residue of magic on the paper, so they don't really care about the signature itself. Signatures can be easily forged, especially with magic. If the vault in question belongs to all three of you, then all three of your magic would be connected to the vault."

Harry reddened. "Oh, okay."

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger. You three are now the proud owners of this house in Tinworth. This here, is the address. Would you like me to go with you to the house, or…?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's okay Ms. Fawcett. We'd like to go alone. Thank you for all your help." She took the contract of ownership and slid it into her bag. "Come on, guys. Let's go get Floppy, and then we can apparate there."

"Everything okay here, Em?" A head poked through the nearly invisible door to the side.

Fawcett looked at her longtime friend and co-worker. "It's all good here, Katie. Just sold a house."

Katie Bones entered the room and sat down where Harry was sitting before. "Really now? That's good. Why do you look so contemplative then?"

"Well, the house was bought by three kids, just above 18 I suppose." Bones raised her eyebrows at this. "Yeah, I don't know how they got the money to pay for the down payment, especially since they're orphans, but I shouldn't pry, you know? I already messed up a bit by reminding them of their parents' deaths when they told me they were orphans. And I was told that they were used to it." She rested her head on her palm.

"I really hate this war… if it even counts as one, since it's so one-sided. Children are being orphaned left and right because of Death Eaters. And there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"Stop it Em. You said it yourself. There's nothing you can do. So don't beat yourself up."

Emily Fawcett just smiled painfully. Katie was right though. All she could do was hope that neither she nor her husband died and left their children in the world, defenseless, lonely, and helpless; everything a parent wouldn't want their child to experience.

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A/N: Yeah... this chapter... I dunno. Well, the entire letter is out! It's gonna be more interesting in the next chapter though... I hope. Promise! Once again, please review! Like I usually say: it's good motivation. And I can't believe how long it took me to calculate how much the down payment for the house took me...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Here we go again: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Like I promised, there's more stuff happening in this chapter... but more towards the lower half of the chapter. And woot! I got a beta for this fanfic! Sure, it's my older sister, but still! Please enjoy~

EDIT: Same drill as before. This used to be chapters 5 and 6.

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Whistling, Harry left Diagon Alley and re-entered the Leaky Cauldron. He was carrying a large cage with a snowy white owl that they purchased from Magical Menagerie. She was affectionately named "Hedwig", in memory of the Hedwig that died the night of Harry's seventeenth birthday. Ron was just a step behind him, happily munching on some chocoballs that they had bought from one of the numerous stalls. Hermione walked next to Ron, occasionally taking one of the chocolaty magical sweets.

Harry looked around when they entered the inn, and after a few moments, headed to the counter. "Hullo, Tom." The innkeeper looked up. Harry wasn't quite out of his shock when he first saw Tom, but now that he actually looked, the man looked just as he did when Harry last saw him… however many years into the future. And that thought struck him. "I'm Harry Potter, sir."

Tom took the hand offered to him and shook it. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter. Now, how can I help you?"

"Do you happen to have a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, Tom? We forgot to pick one up during our visit to Diagon Alley." Harry waited for a bit as Tom stooped down and looked behind the counter, before emerging with a slightly wrinkled newspaper. "Thank you."

He strode over to the table where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. "Why'd you get the _Prophet_ for, mate?" Ron managed to ask.

"Oh Ron. He's looking for the date, right Harry?" At Harry's nod, she continued. "I _can't_ believe I didn't think of it earlier though. It's important to know what date it is, as well as the current events. Good thinking, Harry."

"Ohh… Good idea, Harry. Imagine, asking someone for the date and year? They would have chucked us into the loony bin immediately." Obviously, eating more than a dozen chocoballs was too much for Ron as he started laughing hysterically. "Now, let's see…" He snatched the newspaper from Boy Wonder. "It's… August 24th. Merlin, it's the same date as when we… you know, disappeared."

"Ron, we're more concentrated on the _year_." Hermione sounded exasperated, ignoring the rueful tone in Ron's words.

"Right. It's August 24th, 1975."

Harry pulled up a seat and set Hedwig's cage on it. "Okay, Hermione, you wanna read it? It'd be suspicious if I borrowed the newspaper and only glanced at the first page. I'm gonna leave Hedwig here. We'll apparate to the house after I go get Floppy." Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel.

"Floppy, are you still here?"

The House Elf hopped off the bed. "Floppy is a good House Elf. Floppy stays in room, like Master Harry ordered." The room was cleaner than when they left it. That was to be expected though. Over the year and a half, Harry came to realize that his House Elf liked cleaning almost as much as Dobby liked strange, mismatched socks. Floppy walked over to the table. "Floppy made lunch, Master Harry." And indeed she did. On the table was a simple meal created from the limited supplies in the room.

"Ah, um, Floppy. We've bought a house, so can you go ahead of us and set the place up? It already has some furniture and food. Those apparently come with some houses…"

Floppy brightened up. "Of course, Master Harry. Right away, Master Harry. Floppy will make a big lunch for Master Harry, Miss Hermione, and Mr. Ron." She bowed once, and then disapparated with a crack.

Harry scanned the room for anything that they might have left behind. "_Finite incantatum_." He murmured, noticing that Hermione's _muffliato _was still in effect. He locked the door behind him, running down the stairs and leaping off them at the third to last stair. He enjoyed the brief moment of free falling before his feet met with the ground again. _'The first thing I'm gonna do when we get to the house is go flying.'_

"'Mione, Floppy went on ahead. Come on, let's go." He waited patiently for Hermione and Ron to grab their stuff, after which the three of them handed Tom the newspaper and key.

"That reminds me. I need to subscribe to the _Daily Prophet_. It would be good to know what the enemy's doing." Hermione commented. "Tom, do you happen to have a _Daily Prophet _subscription slip?"

"Just a moment, Miss." He shuffled around a bit more before coming back victorious with a sheet of paper.

"Thanks, Tom." Hermione sat down at one of the seats next to the bar. "Give me a second, guys. This is will take only a minute." She pulled out her quill and scribbled furiously. Her writing was two times as big as normal, which made it as large as Harry's scrawl, which in turn wasn't all that big. "The first time I applied for the _Daily Prophet_, it was sent back with a note stating that it wasn't legible and to rewrite it." She smiled sheepishly. "Recipient: Hermione Granger. Mode of delivery: Owl Post. Address: 465 – 13 Tinworth, Times Manor."

Ron gaped at her. "She memorized the address already?" He hissed. "Is there anything she _can't_ do?!" Harry shrugged. Obviously, Hermione Granger was the "brightest witch of our time" that created the spell that sent them back to 1975. Top in every class, except Defense Against the Dark Arts, in which she was second best only to Harry himself.

"Well, if you _studied_, Ron, you could have done better in class." She retorted, stowing her quill back in her bag. "Let me borrow Hedwig, Harry."

He let Hedwig out, who immediately landed on the counter. She would have landed on his shoulder, but he wasn't wearing at pads or leather, and he didn't really want to feel her claws digging into his shoulder.

Hedwig stuck out her foot like a proper post owl. Harry grinned, amused. _'It looks like she wants us to have a good first impression of her.'_ Hedwig looked so similar to her namesake that Harry was almost convinced that his former companion hadn't actually died. He was, however, convinced that this Hedwig was one of his dead owl's ancestors. He was positively sure of this, and would hex anyone who even _implied_ otherwise. No one would know who the original Hedwig was however, and therefore, Harry wouldn't be forced to carry out his threat.

Hermione tied the note to the snow owl's leg with a spare piece of twine. Hedwig hooted twice, nipped Harry's finger affectionately, and then flew out of the open window.

"Course, I don't mind this and all, but would you mind sending your owl out _outside_? I don't mind of course." Tom quickly assured them. "It's just that owls, or rather, flying animals, make some of our… peculiar guests nervous." He nodded towards a group of hooded creatures in a shadowy corner. "Aviofoes. Strange creatures. Rather antisocial. Anyway, I shouldn't keep you. A new house I hear. Remember, you can't apparate or disapparate in the Leaky Cauldron, so best to do it in Diagon Alley."

"Alright, see you, Tom." They headed towards the back entrance. Whipping out his wand, Harry tapped the necessary bricks and they waited for the bustling street to appear.

A woman shrieked and pushed by them. Rather than the sounds of excited students getting ready for another school year, they were met with screams. Realizing that the entrance to Diagon Alley was open, the wizards and witches started shoving their way out. Hermione pushed the three of them to the wall to avoid being stampeded by the mob.

"What do you suppose is going on?" Ron muttered as he was hit in the stomach by the flying bag of a couple.

"No idea, but I intend on finding out." Harry answered, grabbing the two and fighting against the stream of people to get into the Alley.

Once they were inside, it seemed chaos reigned supreme. People were yelling and screaming. A couple of parents were calling desperately for the children that from whom they were separate. A store was suddenly lit on fire. Behind them, the Leaky Cauldron was being filled. On the other entrance to the inn, Muggles were surely being shocked by the amount of people that appeared to have materialized out of thin air.

Before long, three-fourths of the occupants that were once in Diagon Alley had evacuated from an invisible enemy. The entrance that the three just passed through sounded a loud screech as it started to shut.

"What?" Ron uttered, staring in confusion.

"It's being forced shut!" Hermione explained furiously. "It must have been spelled with something or another, causing it to go against the original charm cast upon it. That's why there's such resistance to the original spell."

Harry breathed in deeply. "Death Eater attack." His words caused Ron and Hermione to freeze. "_What are you doing?! _ Take out your wands!" He hissed. They followed his orders absentmindedly.

It wasn't fear that stunned them, and it certainly wasn't incompetence. It was merely shock. After two years of living in peace, they had believed that the major battle was over. Sure, there would be other convicts and criminals, but the Dark Lord was dead. And yet, here, Voldemort was alive, well, and at his strongest. They were well aware of that fact, and their brains knew it, but they themselves didn't quite believe it, until that particular moment.

In less than ten seconds, the doorway sealed shut completely. The people standing right in front of the wall looked on in devastation. Nearby, a child was crying. Now that the Alley was emptier, Harry could see the cloaked and masked figures. They were laughing as a few… Muggleborns, he guessed, were being levitated in the air. One of the Death Eaters waved his wand around and a wizard flipped around in the air.

Harry ran towards the circle, Hermione and Ron following on his heels.

The wizard that was flipped then did sharp twist. The Death Eater that controlled the first movement turned and growled towards another. "Hands off! This Mudblood's mine, so go get your own."

The other Death Eater merely waved his wand and the wizard was turned upside down. "I don't think so."

The first one pointed his wand at the wizard again and jerk it towards him. The man gave a painful cry. He was being pulled between the two Death Eaters, who both seemed intent on controlling him. It didn't seem to matter to them if he died in their conflict, or even came out in one piece.

Around the Death Eaters were a few mutilated bodies, none of which had all four limbs. There were cuts over them, and blood was still seeping out of their wounds. The vibrant red color stained the cobblestone road, as though it wanted to attract everyone's attention, to show everyone who had died. The ones that Harry could see clearly had horrified faces, frozen in their deaths for all the world to see.

Yet another Death Eater pointed his wand at a sobbing little girl who seemed to be just over eight. "Stop your racket, you filthy blood-traitor! _Crucio!_" The girl screamed her heart out, attempting to curl up in a tiny ball in midair. "No mummy or daddy to save you." He sneered after lifting the Unforgivable. Her parents were in the air as well, her mother crying uncontrollably while her father was screaming profanities.

"I wonder what mummy and daddy would do if you suddenly went splat." At this, her parents started begging, bribing, pleading, doing any and everything that popped into their minds. The Death Eater suddenly dropped his spell on her, and she plummeted to the ground.

"_Mobilicorpus!_" Harry yelled just as the girl was three feet from impact. Her body remained suspended in midair. She was breathing heavily from her near death experience.

The Death Eater that attempted to send her to her doom pointed his wand at Harry. Even though he had the silver mask that covered his identity, Harry could almost see the scowl. "You dare go against the Death Eaters? Do you know what will happen?"

Harry smirked. "Of course. You will be sent to Azkaban. What else would happen to you?" Waving his wand, the girl was brought closer to him, and then was let down gently. She crumpled at his feet. Hermione pushed Harry out of the way, falling to her knees and gathered the little girl in her arms. She rocked back and forth to calm her down from her traumatic experience, looking up every now and then to give a glare at the offender.

The rest of the Death Eaters noticed their appearance, letting their captives go, causing them to freefall to the ground. Hermione's eyes widened and muttered a spell. A shade of graying mist came from her wand and gathered under the bodies, suspending them in midair.

"_Confringo!_" a Death Eater cast, a sharp red bolt emerging from his wand that was pointed at the helpless Hermione. She was still casting her spell. If she let it go, the wizards and witches that she was supporting would inevitably fall to their deaths.

"_Protego!"_ Ron growled, erecting a shield in front of Hermione, who winced when the explosion took place upon impact.

Harry stared coldly at the Death Eaters. Like the other two, he never expected to have to face them again. There wasn't anything that he could do about it though, and he sent a well placed _Diffindo_ at one of his enemies. The Death Eater cried out in pain, his arm no longer attached to his body.

Gritting his teeth, Harry and Ron set to work as Hermione directed her spell to come to her side, away from the fight. She was muttering healing spells when the street just a few feet away from her exploded.

Twisting around, she saw a Death Eater. Harry was facing off three at once, and Ron had two opponents. The three-limbed Death Eater was left forgotten in his agony. Gripping her wand, she threw an _Expulso_ at the man. He deftly dodged and sent a curse her way.

Harry was struggling. He wasn't at full energy and with three opponents, he had to incorporate a few Muggle moves in. Choosing to evade a purplish color curse rather than put up a shield, he threw himself to the side. The spell hit the one that was creeping up behind him. Really, fighting multiple opponents when he was physically and mentally exhausted wasn't a good idea, he thought as he retaliated.

Now against two Death Eaters, it was slightly easier, but he still had to split his attention. All of a sudden, two other wizards appeared next to him, facing one of the Death Eaters. "Sorry that you had to face them all. We should have helped earlier." One of the strangers apologized and then started dueling.

Harry grinned. Now that it was one on one, the Death Eater would pay for his crimes. All too soon, the battle was over, and the seven original Death Eaters were tied up, unconscious, or still bleeding. Harry couldn't bring himself to care, but Hermione still took pity on the man and stopped the bleeding.

Suddenly, wards that he wasn't aware were up came down and Aurors apparated in, accompanied by one Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's normally clear blue eyes were stormy and lost the twinkle that was usually in them. Harry tensed up at the sight, his throat tightening. He hadn't seen the man in three years and now Dumbledore was right in front of him. What would he say? Should he even say anything at all? His hands perspired and he wiped them on his jeans.

The elderly man strode rapidly in his direction, and Harry opened his mouth to greet him. His usually active mind was now blank and all he really wanted to do was run up to Dumbledore and exclaim that they had done it, that they had succeeded in defeating Voldemort. He wanted to tell him that Aberforth had helped them in the final battle and that he had forgiven him for the death of their sister.

_Swoosh_. Harry froze as he heard the sound of Dumbledore's cloak as he went past. He smiled bitterly, berating himself. Of course. They weren't in his normal time. No one here knew anything about him, including Dumbledore himself.

Swallowing the unreasonable feeling of betrayal that was threatening to bubble up, he approached Ron and beckoned for Hermione to join the two. She subtly nodded and walked past Dumbledore, her face unreadable. "We should leave." Harry murmured when she was a few feet away.

She looked at him strangely and turned towards Dumbledore. "Harry, don't you think that we should tell Dumbledore?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I- I know what I told you in third year… but the situation's different now! We won't ever go back again… and it's Dumbledore!"

"'Mione. Listen to Harry. We can decide what to do when we get to the manor." Ron muttered. "Uh oh." At her curious look, he nodded towards Dumbledore, who was walking to them, a familiar gleam in his eyes.

He stood in front of them, a grandfatherly look on his face. "The Prewett brothers there told me that you three were the reason that these people are unhurt."

Hermione took it upon herself to answer for the three of them, smiling softly. "I suppose, sir, but we didn't really do much." Harry wasn't in the condition to speak to his once-dead mentor and Ron seemed to be out of it, staring to the side. She stepped back, pressing her foot on his to catch his attention.

"I see. This is an impressive feat for you three. If you don't mind me asking, but how old are you?"

"We're all twenty, sir." Ron was still staring into space. Honestly, if he didn't want her to spill everything to their previous Headmaster, then he should at least be paying attention.

"We didn't do it alone." Harry suddenly interrupted. "They helped us."

"Yes, yes… but you were the first to stand up to these Death Eaters. Everyone else was terrified of what Voldemort would do if he found out that they resisted." After that statement, the twinkling in his eyes increased, if possible. "May I ask for your names?"

"I'm Harry Potter, this is Hermione Granger, and that's Ron Weasley. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. …?" Harry finally noticed that Ron was looking to the side with something akin to longing in his eyes. He would ask him about it later. Right now, he had other matters on his hands.

"I'm Albus Dumbledore. How is it that you managed to take on these Death Eaters at your age?"

"We've… had experience." Hermione answered. "Don't worry. We abhor those that use magic to harm others unreasonably."

"Unreasonably?"

She smiled coldly. "Mr. Dumbledore, we just used magic to defeat the Death Eaters and in doing so, hurt them intentionally. None of it was uncalled for though."

He nodded at this. "I see. Now, I'm the headmaster of Hogwarts. Unfortunately, I've been unsuccessful in my search for a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Would it be in your interest to apply for the position?"

Harry tensed when he noticed that the question was directed mostly to him. So that was his aim. Hermione noticed as well, it seemed, and was staring anxiously at him as well.

If he took on that position, he would be able to return to castle. If he was lucky, then he might even have the chance to teach his parents. His parents. James. Lily. Remus. Sirius. _Sirius_. "I… I don't think that I have the capability to teach students my age." His heart pained at having to give up this opportunity… but as the Savior that he always was, he needed to not be selfish and think of the greater good. It was a routine that he was used to by now. Maybe after he accomplished this goal… maybe then.

Dumbledore's eyes dimmed a bit, and Harry felt guilty for being the cause of it. "But… perhaps Hermione could teach. She has almost as much experience as I had and she's really teacher material." Dumbledore's eyes snapped to the girl, who was staring at Harry in shock. He examined her closely before smiling warmly.

"Would you be willing to take on this position, Miss Granger?" She was still looking at Harry, who nodded at her.

"I- I suppose, Mr. Dumbledore."

"Excellent!" His eyes were twinkling again. "We can have the interview and exam in a few days time. I'll need some way to contact you…?" She quickly pulled out a scrap of parchment and scribbled their new address on it, handing it to him. "Thank you, Miss Granger. You'll also need to bring the scores that you received on the NEWTs. Do you have any questions?" She shook her head silently and he smiled at them all. "Well, I'll see you then. Now then, excuse me. I must assist with the reopening of the entrance." He nodded his farewell and walked towards the sealed up wall that was once the entrance, the crowd of people separating for him.

"Moses and the Red Sea." Hermione muttered and Harry grinned at her biblical reference. She opened her mouth to explain the Muggle phrase to Ron when she realized that he wasn't paying attention.

"Oi, Ron, mate. What's up? You didn't even react when we saw Dumbledore." Harry nudged the redhead in the side.

Ron blinked and looked down at him, his eyes still wide.

"So what caught your attention? It'd better not be another girl, or Hermione here might throw a fit."

"HARRY!" Hermione reddened. "I told you! Ron and I aren't dating anymore! Right, Ron? …Ron?"

Ron was looking to the side again. There, next to a store, was a red-headed woman and her children. She appeared to be trying to calm the older one down as he cried and clung to her leg, while the younger was staring aimlessly into space.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Mrs. Weasley? And is that _Bill _and_ Charlie_?" He glanced at Ron. Their circumstances really hit him the hardest. "Mate, you can't."

"I know." Ron whispered, sounding breathy. Hermione embraced him when she heard his voice, so forlorn and hopeless.

"Hey," A voice called. "Excellent dueling just now." It was the two wizards who had helped him earlier. "Gideon Prewett. This is my brother, Fabian Prewett. Just call us Gideon and Fabian."

Harry clasped the hand, keeping an eye out for Ron, who seemed to be pulling himself together. "Harry Potter. That's Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

"Weasley? Possibly related to Arthur Weasley, the dearest brother-in-law that has wedded the terrifying menace I have the privilege to call my sister?" Fabian grinned good-naturedly, as his brother ruffled his own red hair.

"N-not that I know of." Ron croaked.

Hermione cut in immediately. "Our parents all died when we were younger, you see. So we don't really know who's related to who."

At this, Gideon slapped Fabian on the head. "Apologies, then. My brother can be quite a thoughtless prat." Fabian pouted at this. "You know what? Come on." He started walking… in Mrs. Weasley's direction.

"Walk, walk!" Fabian shepherded the three. "Get moving before Gideon comes back here wondering what's taking us so long and then drags you off by the ears." At this, the trio stopped dragging their feet and hurried up.

Within fifteen seconds, the five were all standing in front of Mrs. Weasley with Gideon in the lead. Fabian evaded the trio and joined his brother. "Dearest sister!" He spread his arms wide. "We have found your brother-in-law!"

Gideon rolled his eyes at his brother's antics. "Molly, this is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Guys, this is our sister, Molly Weasley." The slightly plump woman scrutinized the three for a bit, who, with the exception of Ron, shifted uncomfortably. Mrs. Weasley, who had never looked at them with other than love and care, was examining them with suspicion. Ron, on the other hand, was used to his mother using that very same look on everyone in the Weasley family, checking with her eyes that they weren't up to any good.

Noticing their apparent discomfort, Fabian stage-whispered to them, "Don't worry about her. My family's a bit on the strange side, you see? And Gideon's the weirdo who manages to memorize people's names after hearing them once. I'm quite possibly the _only_ normal person in our family." He was slapped again by Gideon.

After a few moments, Mrs. Weasley seemed to have finished her scrutinizing and smiled warmly like she used to, at them. "Pleased to meet you three. These are my sons, Bill and Charlie." Charlie was looking at them innocently, reminding them that Charlie was only two to three years old. A four-year-old Bill had stopped his wailing and stared at Ron in particular with something akin to adoration. If it wasn't adoration, it seemed to be developing into it fast.

Ron shifted awkwardly at the attention from the person he looked up to as his oldest brother. "Bill! It's rude to stare at people!" Mrs. Weasley gently scolded her child. "Oh, excuse him. He hasn't quite learned his manners yet." At this, Bill looked up with large doe eyes. "Don't use that look on me, young man. Now, apologize to Ron."

Bill grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Ron." Ron simply gave a strained smile and ruffled his hair for a brief second.

"Right. It was a pleasure to meet you." Hermione nodded at her. "I'm afraid we need to go home now. We just moved in, so we have to settle in."

"Oh? Which area?" Gideon raised an eyebrow.

"Tinsworth."

"Tinsworth? I bet we have a cousin living there."

Gideon rolled his eyes again. "We're purebloods, Fabian. We're all technically related to each other one way or another."

"I know! That's why I would have won that bet too!"

Hermione giggled at their short interaction. "If you've just moved in, you should come over to our house and have dinner!" Mrs. Weasley urged.

"Perhaps another time, Mrs. Weasley." Harry gave a winning smile. "Our House Elf, Winky, was so excited to make dinner for us."

Mrs. Weasley nodded understandingly. "Of course. Another time, then."

"See you."

"Make sure you actually do come over though, or else Molly dear would cause mayhem."

"Bye, Ron."

The trio said their farewells and disapparated with a crack, the Weasleys and Prewetts disappearing from view.

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A/N: The next chapter has been planned out and will be written... after everything else has been updated...

So that was the chapter. They have interactions with the Weasleys and Dumbledore. Don't worry about Hermione being the DADA teacher. I know that a lot of people have Harry being the teacher... but I have my reasons! And I don't think that Harry's really teacher material... I know he taught the DA, but I don't see him sitting at a desk reading/grading scrolls of papers. And don't worry, I'll have him back at Hogwarts though! And there'll be interactions with the Potters soon enough. So please, review! And you can tell me what I need to make better if you want to.

About the part I made Harry use _diffindo_ rather than a stronger spell: Well, I don't think that Harry would be the type to flaunt his power, and so would probably use weaker spells that would most likely do the same thing. Also, since he has so much more magic than usual wizards, his weaker spells have an augmented affect (ie. cutting off someone's arm). And I guess he seemed really weak (only being able take on less people than usual in a duel) because his mind was weak at the time with everything going on. Ron wasn't the only one deeply affected by the time travel. I have this whole thing going on with the mind being connected to the magic and vice versa. And I suppose that even though their families would mostly exist, they would turn out differently and would then seem to be entirely different people (and Hermione would never see her parents again). My fight scene sucked... I've NEVER actually wrote a fight scene before, so I'll need to work on them. I'll get better though! :D


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